Sunday, November 20, 2011

An open letter to all Twilight fans

Director: So. How do we make this love scene more cliched?

Good evening,

If you're reading this, I'm going to presume you're either a Twilight fan
or someone who's bored and decided to click into here for a
chuckle. Whatever your backstory, welcome, but be aware post is directly directed at anyone
who might be planning on going to see The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn Part 1; a
shoo in for a nomination in 'titles that really aren't suited to twitter
discussion' Oscar category this year, along with the really long winded Harry Potter title.

Up until now, I've observed the Twilight franchise with a mix of bemusement and
apathy. It's something I assumed I simply didn't 'get', wasn't supposed to 'get', and was more than happy
to ignore it in favour of stuff I could care about. I just wrote if as a
social phenomena that wasn't aimed at me: the cynical, mid-twenties male
film student.

But today shit got personal. Well, not really, but I'm taking it as a
direct insult. Bored and searching for a social activity I decided to check out the local multiplex timetables in
the - admittedly false - hope that they'd be snowing Australian break
through hit Snowtown. Since I've spent approximately two-fifths of my
waking hours this week commuting, the idea of trudging into the city arthouse theatre to
see it doesn't appeal. So: I checked the multiplex timetable, admittedly with
little hope.

It, obviously, wasn't showing. But very little else was either, apart
from a load of silly action films and a bound-to-be mediocre heist film from the king of mediocrity himself, Sir Brett
Ratner. A few decent films - notably Tinker, Tailor... somehow lingering in the cinema
around two months after its initial release - were still showing, but
been there, bought the t-shirt etc.

What was showing was Breaking Dawn.

Thirteen. Fucking. Times.

Now this bothered me. Surely one - a mere single screening in the what must be three screens dedicated to a single film - could have
been excised to make way for something that us non-Twilight fans could
watch and enjoy. I'm well aware Twilight is popular, and it would be
remiss of me to begrudge the cinema owners out of making money, but
still.

Thirteen! And over thirty times over the course of the weekend. That's nothing compared to a city centre cinema that literally has twice that many screenings. Absurdity!

So: it's time I let you in on a secret. This may come as a shock, but it
needs to be said as Snowtown continues to be relegated to arthouse
cinemas across the country (or, more specifically, Dublin. My thoughts
are with my rural comrades). Here's the truth: you don't like Twilight.

Now, who am I to make such a ludicrous, even condescending judgement? It
is not my intention to insult or offend. I'm also aware many viewers watch
Twilight ironically, or even as a guilty but disposable pleasure. That's
fine, I'm not necessarily cool with it, but it's entirely your decision. I'm directing this more at anyone who has been - understandably -
tricked into thinking this is any way shape or form anything other than
worthless trash. I just feel it's important to get this out there, and
if I can even prevent one person from paying into see this film, I
consider my work complete.

Firstly, you should be aware that the studios are tricking you with
attractive people. I myself have fallen victim to this: I once watched
Brothers because it featured Natalie Portman, and I regret that decision
to this day. But the reality is they're trying to numb you into
submission by parading all manner of shirtless superhunks in front of
you. Friend: Google image search will serve the same purpose in a far less
melodramatic, cheaper and time-saving manner.

Secondly: this is the perfect example of peer pressure, or suggestion by
force. It's like schoolyard dynamics: if everyone's talking about
something, you can be damn sure I'll want to be part of the party, no
matter how poor the subject in question is. We see this all over society
as it continues to shamelessly celebrate mediocrity, while manic producers snort cocaine off their stacks of laundered bills. The undeserved popularity of
the X-Factor, Glee or indeed the glorified karaoke act Michael Buble are further examples of this triumph of
untalent.

Thirdly, this really doesn't need to be two films from any (lulzworthy) plot synopsis I've endured. You're being taken for a monetary ride.

An aside: I could fill this paragraph with thoughts on the highly objectionable morals of the quote saga unquote, or indeed a breakdown of the failings of this franchise on a purely cinematic level (having had the misfortune to see bits and pieces of the first film during my time in a video store). However, I think more highly of you than that, so we shall leave these self-evident truths and begin to wind up.

Mostly we can blame Stephanie Meyer: that crafter of inane, deplorable,
offensive subversions of classic mythology. In her continued failure to
grasp the appeal of the vampire myth, she has instead decided to appeal
to people's basest, most (deservedly) hidden instincts and created a
franchise that has the artistic merit of a particularly narratively lazy
pornographic film. It's a feat to make Buffy the Vampire Slayer look comparatively thoughtful and reflective. But Ms. Meyer has somehow achieved what in a just world would be the impossible: managed to make her slightly embarrassing personal sex fantasy a commercial goldmine.

THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN VAMPIRE MEET SUNLIGHT

Vampires aren't meant to emote and declare their undying (ho!) love for
each other, and they sure as shit aren't meant to sparkle. They're meant
to be creepy, confused beings with shocking bloodthirst. Although -
let's be honest - a caesarean section with fangs is a step too far, Stephanie,
especially for a franchise predominantly aimed at tweens.

Let the Right One In, Nosferatu (the original and the Herzog version), Thirst, even the camp nonsense of Interview with the Vampire (if Twilight is heroin, IWTV is methadone): many of which cover similar topics, in a far more
cinematic and much less lame way than the Twilight films have. Please:
watch one instead of Twilight 4, or 5, or whatever the hell it's on at
this point. You'll find it's much more rewarding in the long term, and
you'll soon forget you were even a member of Team Jacob. You'll be on
Team Klaus Kinski instead. Phwoar.